


Sure As The Stars Above

by ShowMeAHero



Series: (I've Tasted Blood And) I Want More [2]
Category: Frankenstein & Related Fandoms, Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dress Kink Comes Back, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Pre-Canon, Romance, like goopy disgusting romance, seriously ridiculous fluff, with a vengeance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 09:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2463257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victor makes good on his promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sure As The Stars Above

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Izzy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izzy/gifts).



> I am garbage. Warm, horrible garbage.
> 
> Title taken from "Fuck You (Redo)" by Garfunkel and Oates.
> 
> Gift for Izzy.

“I won’t lie,” Victor began, pushing his bedroom door open with a little more force than was strictly necessary.

“Because you are a _dreadfully_ bad liar,” Henry finished for him, stepping around Victor lightly and making his way to Victor’s bed. He hopped up onto it and knelt on the mattress, watching as Victor shut his door and bolted every lock along the edge.

“Because I would never lie to you,” Victor disagreed. He turned the doorknob and tugged it. When the door stayed firmly locked and shut, he stepped away, satisfied. Henry watched, his hands braced on his knees, as Victor moved to his desk. He pointedly ignored the dress draped over the back of his chair. Henry stared attentively.

“You won’t lie…” Henry prompted. Victor hesitated, then turned.

“What?” Victor asked, his brow furrowed. Henry raised his eyebrows, and Victor lit up with realization. “Oh, right. I won’t lie, I thought dinner would never end. I kept thinking of-” He cut himself off, his eyes darting to the dress draped over his desk chair. Henry grinned. Victor blushed, then cleared his throat. “Regardless. That was the longest dinner I have ever attended.”

“I think my favorite moment of the night was when your father said ‘address’ and you choked on the Nesselrode,” Henry said, shifting to stretch out on the bed. His legs dangled over the side, his feet swinging a good amount of space off the ground. Victor’s face turned crimson. Henry propped himself up on his elbows to watch Victor putter around his desk. “You looked beautiful, coughing on a chestnut until I struck you on the back. Very handsome.”

“Stop,” Victor said, turning his face away to hide his red cheeks and smile. Henry sat up.

“No, honestly. I have never been more attracted to you.” Henry stood, crossing the room to Victor. He ran his hands over his waist and tugged at his shirt until Victor turned in his arms. “Your allure is truly remarkable.”

“I despise you,” Victor murmured, and Henry shrugged.

“I can handle that.” Henry began unbuttoning Victor’s shirt. He tugged the ends out of his trousers and grinned up at him. “I haven’t forgotten our deal, Victor.”

Victor unbuttoned his cuffs, keeping his eyes carefully focused on his wrists. “Henry, I’m not so sure. You are… very beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Henry replied softly, pushing Victor’s shirt off his shoulders and pulling it off. It puddled on the floor where it fell. “However, that has absolutely nothing to do with the matter at hand.”

“You are very beautiful,” Victor repeated, unbinding Henry’s hair and threading his fingers through it while Henry worked at unfastening Victor’s trousers. “I am not.”

“Nonsense,” Henry disagreed. Victor toed his shoes off and stepped back. Henry pushed at Victor’s slacks, and Victor tugged them off, dropping them on the floor. “You, Victor Frankenstein, are easily the most attractive,” and here Henry pressed a kiss to Victor’s chest, right at his level, “the most charming,” he stretched up a bit, kissing his collarbone, “the most enchanting,” and here his neck, “the most delightful,” and he kissed the underside of his jaw, “the most handsome man I have ever met.”

Victor hummed thoughtfully as Henry stretched up onto his toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Henry ran his hands over Victor’s sides.

“You don’t have to do this if it makes you at all uncomfortable,” Henry murmured against Victor’s lips. He fell back onto the flats on his feet. “You understand?”

“I am not uncomfortable,” Victor admitted. “I am just… worried about disappointing you, I suppose.”

“Victor, you will _never_ disappoint me,” Henry promised him. He tangled the fingers of his right hand with Victor’s left. “You are remarkable, and very dear to me. I love you. Nothing you could do would _ever_ disappoint me.”

Victor’s eyes flickered over the dress again. He pressed his lips together. “I will admit to being… curious.”

Henry stepped back and swept a hand towards the dress. “By all means, Doctor Frankenstein, satisfy our mutual curiosity.”

Victor, resisting the automatic urge to correct Henry, tugged his stockings off awkwardly, his long limbs folding over themselves as Henry watched. Henry took hold of the edge of Victor’s undershirt, and Victor stepped back to pull it off as neatly as he could. The action left him standing in only his pants, and Henry grinned.

“You are _ravishing_ ,” Henry told him, smile wide. He lifted the dress carefully from the back of the chair and presented it to Victor as a tailor or a salesman might. Victor made quick work of the lacing, pulling it apart with his deft fingers until it was suitable for him to slip into. With Henry’s assistance, he was able to pull it onto his body with relative ease. Henry helped him lace it back up again, moving even more quickly than Victor did, which gave Victor information to consider at a later time. Henry stepped back, admiring Victor with a playfully critical eye. He tapped thoughtfully at his chin.

“Hmm.” Henry moved to examine the dress from the side, then from the back. He returned to the front and, unable to contain himself any longer, surged forwards, knocking Victor back against the wall as he kissed him. He was nearly scrambling to get to the right height to properly kiss him before he just gave up altogether, spinning Victor around, shoving him down into the desk chair, falling on top of him over the dress.

“You look incredible,” Henry breathed, biting at Victor’s lower lip. He dropped his head to suck a mark into Victor’s neck. Victor exhaled forcefully, his hands clutching at Henry’s - technically Victor’s - shirt. “You look magnificent. I love that you would do this for me. Just-” Henry nipped lightly at the hickey on Victor’s neck. “I love you. I love you _so much_.”

Victor’s hands scrabbled against Henry’s back, seeking purchase. He ended up winding his fingers in Henry’s hair. “I love you, too, Henry, good _Lord_ -”

“Taking the Lord’s name in vain,” Henry murmured, his hands roaming all over Victor’s body, teasing the fabric at his waist. “I believe your mother raised you better than that, young man.” Henry punctuated his teasing remark by grinding himself down into Victor’s lap. Victor’s hands jerked in his hair.

“Henry,” Victor groaned, and Henry dropped his head down against Victor’s collarbone, sucking another hickey into the skin there. “ _Damn_ it.”

Henry pulled away, his eyes darting back and forth between Victor’s. “I love you.”

“I love-” Victor began, but he got cut off by Henry’s mouth pressing a bruising kiss to his own, their mouths opening together and moving in sync. Victor’s spectacles pressed into Henry’s skin, leaving red impressions. Henry broke away, shoving their foreheads together.

“Tell me what you want,” Henry demanded, scratching his fingers over Victor’s scalp. Victor’s short hair was soft under his fingers. Victor looked bewildered.

“I- I don’t-”

“Do you trust me?” Henry asked, backing up and standing. Victor frowned.

“Not if you’re going to leave,” Victor replied disagreeably. Henry fell down to his knees, and Victor’s cheeks darkened immediately. “No, no, I-I take it back. I trust you.”

“I imagined you might,” Henry murmured, pushing the skirts and underskirts up and out of his way, ducking his head down underneath them. He hooked his fingers in the edge of Victor’s pants and tugged; Victor lifted his hips to help him get them off. Henry tossed the pants over his shoulder and presses a line of kisses along Victor’s thigh.

Henry had never been with anyone besides Victor, but he had been with Victor since they were, for all intents and purposes, children. Now, he was nineteen, and Victor was twenty, and they were still quite young, but they knew _much_ more. Henry had become experienced with Victor, had learned every aspect of him, every gasp, every twitch, every freckle, every scar. Sometimes, he felt as though he knew Victor - his skin, his likes, his taste, his laugh - better than he knew himself. He knew his own mouth could not take too much, and he knew to use his hands, in addition, and that Victor enjoyed certain touches more than others. He knew that Victor liked holding onto his hair, and he knew that Victor would warn him off every time, but Henry would always remain, because Victor loved when he swallowed, and, if Henry was being honest, he kind of loved it, too.

Henry had spent a great deal of time with Victor. He held him in his heart, as a lover, as a brother, as a kindred spirit. He would do anything for him; he would die for him, at a moment’s notice. He has tried to put it into words - he wrote plays and poems, he painted, he drew. He tried to articulate it, sometimes, when they would sit under the tremendous oak tree at the edge of the Frankenstein estate, or when they were curled together in the darkness. He tried to inject it into every touch, every kiss, every press of skin to skin. He did not know if Victor understood, but he liked to think that he did.

Victor had his hands tangled in Henry’s hair, and Henry had to keep pushing the skirts out of the way, which kept his hands too occupied to properly utilize, but it was just fine anyways, perfect in a way that only they can be, together. Victor tried to warn him off, just like he always did, and Henry stayed, just like _he_ always did. He swallowed, and Victor bowed his head and gasped, and Henry pulled off with a wet, obscene sound. He sat back on his haunches and looked up at Victor patiently, waiting for him to catch his breath. Victor’s hands fell from his hair, tracing loosely around to cradle Henry’s face.

“I love you,” Victor whispered, like a promise. He ducked down to press their lips together, tasting himself deep in Henry’s mouth. “Henry, I love you so, so much.” Like a prayer that time, the way his voice wrapped around his words, the way his mouth shaped his name. Henry pressed their foreheads together, their noses brushing lightly.

“You are incredible,” Henry murmured back, his hands catching on the lace at the front of the bodice of the dress. “Look at you, Victor. Look at how incredible you are. My brilliant scientist. My brilliant, brilliant man.”

Victor laughed breathlessly. “I want to take you to bed, but I am completely unsure of how to get this… _infernal_ gown off.”

Henry stood on slightly shaky legs and held out a hand, ignoring his own discomfort in the too-large pants he had borrowed from Victor. Victor took the hand and stood, his legs wobbling worse than Henry’s were. Henry untied the dress, a slight tremble in his fingertips, and pushed it back from Victor’s shoulders. Victor stepped out of it carefully. Henry lifted the gown, draping it over the back of the desk chair again. Victor’s hands were weak when he began undoing Henry’s clothes, but he gained strength as he went, pulling the shirt over Henry’s head before it was even fully unbuttoned. Henry tugged his trousers and pants down in one swift movement, tripping over the end of one trouser leg and hopping until he was free of them. He jerked his stockings off and tossed them to the ground. He paused, his face red under his freckles, then moved, at a slower pace, back to Victor.

“Thank you,” Henry murmured, stepping close and embracing Victor with the practiced ease that came with years together. Victor traced his hands down Henry’s spine lightly, tracking invisible patterns between his freckles, casting constellations onto his skin.

“Thank _you_.” Victor pressed his lips to the top of Henry’s head, then dropped his cheek there. “I love you.”

Henry pulled back slightly, tipping his head back to look up into Victor’s eyes. There was a wicked glint in Henry’s eye that Victor had grown to appreciate in their time together.

“Show me how much,” Henry challenged. Victor paused, then reached down to lift Henry up. Henry wrapped his legs around Victor’s waist, threw his head back, and laughed. Victor took the opportunity to press a kiss to Henry’s freckled throat.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Here, again, is [the dress](http://vintage13.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/1790s1.jpg), chosen by Izzy. Elizabeth probably isn't going to want it back at this point.
> 
> You can follow me on Twitter at [@nicoIodeon](https://twitter.com/nicoIodeon) or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


End file.
